


i get a kick ev'rytime i see you standing there before me

by quibbler



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-10
Updated: 2014-11-10
Packaged: 2018-02-24 19:57:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2594501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quibbler/pseuds/quibbler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When their high school is putting on a musical, Fitz and Jemma can always be found in the booth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i get a kick ev'rytime i see you standing there before me

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a short Tumblr prompt and instead I wrote over 2k. _Typical_. I did musicals every year of high school and was a techie in junior high and friends with the techies in high school, so I know a little bit about what they do, but some of this is probably me taking liberties.
> 
> Un-betaed and as usual, I don't own anything.

"Hell week is well and truly under way."

Jemma turns to Fitz and rolls her eyes without meaning it. "At least we're in the booth and we have our cues mostly memorised. Imagine trying to be an actor on that stage right now." She tilts her head toward the stage and they both glance over at actors rehearsing lines while standing on their marks, stage crew moving the set pieces, the director yelling at someone they can't see. They're both incredibly lucky that they've established their expertise at the sound and light equipment so they don't get assigned to stage crew or, heaven forbid, stage manager.

She picks up a booklet of gel samples and flips through them idly as Fitz takes off his headset, momentarily turning away from her as he speaks. "How long do you think it'll take them to tape these marks?" He tosses a bag of crisps at her and she just barely catches them.

She pops open the bag as she shrugs one shoulder. "I give it another ten minutes." She hums the chorus of Anything Goes before she stops herself, letting out a huff of air that makes Fitz laugh. "I'm never getting these songs out of my head."

He laughs, tapping his fingers against the desk as he leans back in his chair. She keeps telling him that he's going to fall if he keeps it up and one day maybe she'll be right, but for now she watches him with a frown. "That's what you get for being friends with our leading lady." He jerks his head in the direction of the stage where Skye is standing, looking only slightly panicked. "I'm surprised you didn't audition for it."

'It' means the musical. They try not to mention it if they can avoid it because it has eaten their lives for the past few months. "I'm a fair singe, but I can't act to save my life. Besides, who else would do the lights? You?"

She throws a crisp at him and it lands on his hoodie. He grins before shoving it in his mouth.

\-----

On Tuesday night, the run-through goes without a hitch until the second act, when one of the stage pieces decides it isn't going to move, and then part of it starts to fall. It takes well over an hour to fix it, and during that time, Fitz and Jemma are sitting in the booth trying not to fall asleep and quizzing each other for their chemistry exams. Jemma seems to be dozing off but still able to perfectly solve a few quantum chemistry questions Fitz throws at her, and he is thoroughly impressed.

"Look, Simmons, if we keep trying to study, it's going to be impossible _not_ to fall asleep. And if you're going to take a nap, at least go lie down on the couch." Her head jerks as it falls toward her chest and she looks over at him, her eyes barely staying open. She yawns and he tosses his balled up jumper at her. She flinches and nearly falls out of her chair when it hits her in the face.

"HEY." He ducks just in case she decides to toss it back at him, but she only sticks out her tongue and wiggles her way into the jumper, which is slightly too big for her.

He wouldn't admit this even under torture, but he thinks it looks good on her and that makes him blush.

\-----

The final dress rehearsal is a trainwreck.

In the theatre world, though, a trainwreck before opening night bodes well for the performances, so no one is too worried except for the director, who is bellowing her lungs out and everyone and anyone who missteps.

Jemma is entirely too grateful to be in the booth with Fitz where nothing can touch them unless the lights go out or the microphones stop working, and even then, it wouldn't be their faults. Instead, they wait for the mistakes and finish up what little homework they have before the full run-through. Everyone on stage is in full makeup and costume and Skye looks like she's about to throw something at the director's head--Jemma sees her rolling her eyes and staring out at the booth because even if she can't see Jemma, she knows Jemma can see her. Jemma grimaces.

"D'you think opening night will go smoothly?"

Fitz is still trying to adjust the levels on the soundboard because someone's mic is doing strange things when she speaks and he jumps, lifting a finger to let her know that he'll answer in a moment. "MIC FIVE, CHECK YOUR BATTERY PACK. OR MAYBE YOU'VE TURNED THE STUPID THING OFF." He takes off his headset with a sigh. "Probably, although tonight isn't giving me much hope." Fitz's gaze drifts toward her and he sighs in sympathy before he starts squinting at her. "Are you wearing my jumper? You know, you'll eventually need to give that back."

She grins, pulling the sleeves over her hands. Jemma quite likes the jumper because it smells like him and it's warm and makes her feel less dejected that her legendary lightshow is going to waste behind the production and the singing and dancing. "No, I shan't," she replies in a sing-song voice, tugging lightly on a loose strand of hair that has escaped from her plait. "Besides, you've got at least fifty if your standard wardrobe is anything to go by. You shouldn't miss this one."

He sticks out his tongue at her. "I will miss it because it's my favourite jumper." There's a pause and she looks back at the stage to make sure they aren't about to get lectured for not paying attention before her gaze drifts back toward him. He looks a bit lost in thought and sometimes it's best not to interrupt him. "I suppose I'll let you keep it."

She considers this a victory.

\-----

There are four hours until opening night begins and while the stage crew has been there all afternoon since school ended, Jemma and Fitz get two hours of respite to leave school and do what they'd like with a bit of free time. Instead of going home, though, they head to the cafe across the street, spreading textbooks and papers and laptops all over the small table they've commandeered. Jemma hums quietly to herself, switching songs every few seconds because that is precisely how her brain works. She needs the change because she keeps falling asleep after the hours she's been keeping during musical season.

Fitz, on the other hand, is listening to music on his laptop, headphones plugged in, tapping his fingers along to the beat from time to time. He invests in big, bulky headphones because the sound quality is better, and he knows sound. His pencil flies across pages as he completes lab write-ups, sketches physics problems, finishes up the last of the calculus worksheet he neglected at the end of class. He knows Jemma is typing up a paper for her psychology class and simultaneously solving her limiting reagent problems whilst barely batting an eye.

Sometimes he marvels at how they became friends arguing over a simple problem in their biology class freshman year.

The cups of steaming tea in front of them are hardly steaming by the time Fitz remembers to take a sip, though she seems to have inhaled at least half of hers without paying much attention. He grins, taking off his headphones and letting them hang on the back of his neck as he nudges the top of her laptop screen. She jumps. "How long have we got until call?"

He can see the panic setting into her gaze and is about to tell her that he's almost completely certain they have plenty of time, but then her eyes drop to the clock in the corner of her screen and she visibly relaxes. "Another hour. Can you believe it? It takes the actors so much time to get into costume and get their makeup done and set their quick changes in the alcoves..."

Fitz grins. "You would know."

She flushes a bright red, her eyes flitting from his face to her screen. "Just because I did one play sophomore year doesn't mean that I'm an expert at what the actors go through."

"You had lines, though, and even several costume changes. And maybe you had to do something with your hair."

She sighs. "They could only cast me as Kitty Bennet because she had the _least_ lines. All I really needed to do was react, and I'm good at reacting. What is it, shimmering? That thing where you have to move slowly in the background of a scene so as to not distract from where the audience is supposed to be focusing? I'm very good at that."

He laughs. "You almost fell over during the first dress rehearsal."

She scoffs, tossing a balled up piece of paper at him. "The skirt was too long. It's not my fault that the costume was originally intended for someone at least half a foot taller than me."

He might've cracked a rib by now trying not to laugh as loudly as usual. The other customers probably wouldn't appreciate his sense of humour much. "Well, I'm glad you haven't decided upon another foray into the world of acting. It's much more entertaining having you in the booth with me."

She beams, reaching for her cup of tea and stretching her free arm over her head. "I'll be sure to be the pinnacle of entertainment tonight because we might possibly need it."

\-----

Intermission is always a sudden but welcome respite. Jemma is sitting on the very edge of the couch and Fitz is sprawled behind her recounting all the slip-ups thus far, though there have been very few in relation to yesterday's fiasco and that is always a good sign. A good first act generally bodes well for a good second act.

Neither of them wants to leave the booth and meander backstage, though Jemma checks her mobile once and sees that Skye has messaged her a million and a half emojis because she's probably lost the ability to speak like a normal person and the ability to type like Skye. Instead, Jemma shoots back a quick reply and turns back to her best friend who won't really stop talking so she keeps poking him in the side until he stops. "Ow, stop it," he whines, and she grins because that means she's succeeding.

"It's intermission, Fitz, stop thinking so much. Maybe we should go get some candy."

Fitz shakes his head. "No, can't do that. If we go outside, I'll spend all of my money on candy and then you'll have to put up with me on a sugar high."

Jemma considers this. "Fair point. I've had enough to deal with already, certainly can't put up with you in that sort of state."

Fitz laughs. "And the lights in the foyer will be incredibly bright and someone is bound to think we're vampires if we're shrinking away from the brightness. We're pale enough for it to be a genuine concern."

"More of a concern for you, really. You don't sleep at night whereas I'm up early every morning."

He sighs, covering his eyes with one arm. "Yeah, you're a regular Disney princess."

She grins, nudging him with her elbow. "I'm Belle, right? Without the severe Stockholm syndrome, of course." He makes a noise that she takes to mean his agreement. She sits straighter and if she's sticking out her chest in pride just a little, he says nothing. Not that he's watching. "Thought so."

\-----

Friday seems to come too quickly. Even Jemma is yawning incessantly throughout the day, though that might have more to do with the annual celebration at IHOP following the opening night performance than it does with her usual cheery morning self. Fitz is barely staying awake in any of his classes, though it won't be an issue for his grades--a sleepy Fitz is perfectly normal.

The school day ends and they have their allotted two hours before their call, but instead, Jemma arrives in the booth, dropping her stack of books and her bookbag almost unceremoniously on the floor and moves for the couch.

Fitz beat her to it.

She stares down at her best friend and thinks maybe he's already asleep, but she has to be sure. "Fitz." He doesn't say a word so she nudges his shoulder with one hand. "Fitz, are you awake?" He grunts and twists slightly until her hand is shaken off of him and she sighs, yawning violently enough that her jaw pops and she lets out a soft _oh_.

It takes approximately 26 seconds for her to make a decision. "Move over, Fitz. The couch is big enough for two people and I'm bloody tired and I'm _not_ sleeping on the floor." She pulls out her mobile from her pocket and sets a quick alarm for a single sleep cycle before she takes off her shoes.

She lies down half on top of him and if he were awake, she's certain he would've jumped three feet into the air. Instead, he turns as she settles herself, curling into him to find the most comfortable position. He is very warm and she is very tired and she doesn't really care who finds them like this.

She falls asleep almost instantly.

\-----

When she wakes up a few minutes before her alarm, she dimly wonders if she should get up and pretend like this didn't happen. But his arm is wrapped around her and she doesn't want to lose his warmth and on the very good chance that he remembers her collapsing over him, she'll have to answer whatever embarrassing questions he can manage to spit out.

He wakes up and looks down sleepily at her before sputtering. "Oh, bloody hell. Jemma--"

She shakes her head, a small smile on her face. "This is my fault, Fitz, stop worrying." Despite the flush of his cheeks that is surely mirrored on her face, they stay on the couch together for a full minute before Jemma lifts her head to brush her mouth against his cheek. "Let's start preparing the mics, yeah?"

Fitz is staring at her and maybe it makes her cheeks flush even more, but then he smiles. "Yeah," he says, and it sounds like a new beginning.

After all, anything goes.


End file.
